The Slumbering God: November’s Tides

Hoof and horn, hoof and horn,
all that dies shall be reborn.

Corn and grain, corn and grain
all that falls shall rise again.
Ian Corrigan

With the next primal druidry ritual only three days away and mostly booked up, I wanted to write an introduction of sorts to the inspirational basis for this upcoming rite: the Horned Lord. For those not already acquainted, Cernunnos is a god of many names and titles— the Horned Lord, Herne, Herne the Hunter, and many more. There’s discussion and disagreement amongst practitioners as to whether Big PP Man, as I personally call him (feel free to do so as well if you wish— I like to think he likes it), may be another facet of or bear any relationship to the Green Man. I tend to think thematically at least that he absolutely does- they’re masculine divinities in the same sort of current; sue me.

Cernunnos is regarded as a Lord of the Earth, a lord of animals, depicted with antlers and staglike characteristics. In my assessment, Cernunnos is Life itself. He is often pictured sitting cross-legged with the ancient, mighty oak— the World Tree. As the great Murtagh AnDoile, godfather of Celtic Recon, has observed— he doesn’t hang himself on the World Tree, like Woden. He sits, fully at peace with this bridge between the worlds— the tree as robust embodiment, again, of Life itself. 

Depiction of Cernunnos by Celtic Native

This is where the Lord is virility, why I call him Big PP Man: just as often as he’s depicted as a serene, antlered gentleman sitting beneath an oak tree, he’s equally depicted with a comically enormous phallus to demonstrate his virility and vitality, his fertility. He is Life- he is the Wild, living and dying as the earth does (another note that the Goddess Mother Earth frame being the only concept of pagan earth divinity is not universal, or at least, it’s not mutually exclusive to magic!). Many with a magical background already have an understanding of this, but for clarity, fertility in Celtic mysticism & much of witchcraft signifies potency and creativity with the life force current— which obviously includes the actual creation of life itself, but also means creatively in a non-literal sense; creation of art, undertaking of new projects, manifesting inspiration into the physical realm outside of strictly making babies— you get the idea.  

In my mind, He of the Swinging Cock easily correlates to livelihood and wealth— his earthly nature relates to nurturing and providing, so appealing to him in that domain has always made sense to me. There is no Christian baggage around money as evil; instead, when I appeal to Cernunnos for bounty related to my livelihood, I simply view it as earthly sustenance, the tools with which to provide for myself and have options in this life so I’m not trapped for material reasons— which is entirely in his purview.

My personal favorite statue of the Lord himself, in all his Big PP Glory— from the Green Man store

By most metrics, now (the Dark Half of the Wheel of the Year) is not the time to do a ritual with/for him— he’s asleep, or dead. He’s hibernating, slumbering away in the his domain, the soil of the earth… the ingredients of life itself. His active time is spring through summer, when he mates with the feminine element of Sovereignty Herself to create and sustain life and reign powerfully as the sun shines on his realm.

Earth my body, water my blood,
Air my breath and fire my spirit — so the chant goes.

But when he is part of the soil of the earth, and the earth is our flesh… especially post-Samhain… do you truly think his sleep is simply stagnation? Why would it be? Cernunnos is another potent example of a masculine deity embodying generativity, nurturing strength, with formidable hunter & protector aspects—though it isn’t his entire identity. Cross-legged Cernunnos is the living Tree, the strength and earth-wisdom that bears us up and makes us able to do the hard work of traveling the realms, transforming within and without, to do the labor of magic. These are the magical tides that have been bubbling in my mind for the upcoming ritual— the shamanic travels of the slumbering god. I like to imagine some of the gods as having magical practices of their own, as many of the gods are described as doing magic as we know it— and what they could be like… this Saturday, I’ll do my bit to find out.

I also recognize Cernunnos as Herne, the Lord of the Wild Hunt. I fucking love the Wild Hunt— a dark, primal force of virtue-testing without any “evil” connotations. Another example of the Celtic and Nordic mythos being like kissing cousins, the Hunt is a current of unfettered Dark Half energy— Get right and live in alignment with your nature or die, it seems to challenge. When the Wild Hunt swings around, mortals are supposed to hide indoors as they unleash themselves through our world… but personally, I like to stand right in the eye of the storm and ask— check me. I have nothing to hide. Make sure I can practice what I preach, and live in full integrity— the one true cost of interfacing with the gods and divinity itself. 

Illustration found via Grove of Nova Scotia Druids

So when the Wild Hunt swings around this time of year, I leave gifts for them and stand outside. Look me in the eyes; I know who I am, I know my virtues and live by them. My word and my action are one. I have nothing to hide; strike me down if I lie.

But in my estimation, even in his Darker guises related to death and the Otherworld, Cernunnos is a nurturer— to those of good heart. He is a comforter to the grieving, companion of the weary, and- when the time is right- lusty lover of those who share his passion for the life force current itself. Personally, I’ve never gone wrong making an offering of food, drink and dance to him. But for now, for the sake of this season and its unique flavor… I would endeavor to visit the Horned One in his slumber, to dream with him as he travels across the realms and planes outside of our own. That part, I cannot share with you here, as I facilitate guided vision quests entirely unrecorded and relatively unprepared; I have a general outline of where I’d “like” to head, and after making offerings to the gods, nature spirits and ancestors, I do my best to get out of the way and let them show me what the journey is from there. For those that feel called, I plan on making time to record a separate guided path working for you to utilize at home or wherever you wish. But for now, I highly encourage you to approach him in your own way, in your own time— for an offering, bring something that speaks comfort and nourishment in your heart— be it bread and ale, meat and whiskey, a strong cup of tea… make it personal, and see what he has to show you.

Herne the Hunter by George Cruikshank

Note: As always, this writing is my own assessment as a practitioner first who studies Celtic lore as a passion, to the effect of myth informing my magic. But I am a practitioner first, not an academic. Spare me the angry emails— I’m writing as I feel called to, and sharing it for the love of the Craft. If you want an academic deep dive with fully cited historical sources, go elsewhere. I’ve never pretended to be that— this is primal druidry for 2023. If you don’t like my personal take as a practitioner, then go talk to Big PP Man for yourself and develop your own relationship!